munchinmonster--Thank you. Trust me, it'll come in a big way. However, the story is written almost completely from the Firefly perspective, so a lot of it remains a mystery for them.
Kayla Tetavor--Thank you. I appreciate the kind words!
Fohkukohgeki--Thank you.
grayangle--Thank you, and as you asked, here's some more ;)
Chapter Two: Bug Swatter; Baby Cows
He was an Operative of Parliament.
Once upon a time he was a man. He had a name. He had a family. A little girl, a wife he adored more than his own life. They left Beaumond for a new life on the Rim. Then the war came, and those loyalists like himself who had the misfortune to live in the Independence Territories suffered for their allegiances. The Browncoats came for him when he allowed the Alliance to use his farmstead as a staging area.
The missed him, but they managed to kill his wife. And his little girl.
Now the Operative had no name. He was not a man. He was a shadow. He was a warning to those who would threaten the peace he once wanted for those he loved. He was death.
Those who had reason to call on him called him Walsingham, after an historical figure from Earth-that-was who committed acts of a monstrous nature in order to defend a glorious kingdom.
He stood now on the barren plains of Three Hills, looking over the shattered remnants of an unidentified ship. His men finished their sweeps and reported four dead locals, plus a Blue Sun contractor in the wreck.
"There is no sign of the cryo-tank or the second contractor," the Special Forces lieutenant said. The Operative had his pick of Alliance personnel, and the only ones worth their weight were the Special Forces units. His predecessor taught him that lesson just three weeks ago after losing almost eight thousand men and three Alliance battle cruisers and several support ships to kill a force of only a few thousand Reavers.
Walsingham nodded and stepped gingerly among the crash, scanning everything closely. That was when he saw it. He knelt down and stared intently at the sand between two clumps of charred weeds. It was perhaps six inches long, with just the hint of a heel, but a clearly delineated depression of the ball of a light woman's foot and toes. It was the footprint of a petite woman who knew how to move in absolute silence, and who preferred to go barefoot.
"River Tam," he whispered. He stood and looked at the Lieutenant. "Send a discreet Wave direct to the Minister of Defense. The contractor is dead and Serenity has the cargo."
"Sir," the Lieutenant said. He did not salute, since military officers did not salute civilians. However, he snapped his heels with crisp discipline and turned to obey the order.
"It is time we swat that little bug," Walsingham said. He stood and joined the rest of his men in walking back to the transport. "Oh, and lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Once we are off the ground I want every trace of this site vaporized into glass. There can be no trace of this ship."
"Yes, sir."
"Bein' a bit rough there, aren't you Doc?"
"Am I?" Simon said coldly as he jerked the compress tightly around the cleaned bullet wound. "Sorry about that." He turned to wash his hands for the third time since he began to dig the bullet from the captain's shoulder. "So, she tells you people are going to die and you'll be shot, and you go anyway?"
"People have a might strong desire to eat," Mal said. "No money, no supplies, Dong ma?"
"So how much was that bullet in your shoulder worth?"
"Enough to put food in your belly, you ungrateful littleā¦"
Just then Zoe wondered in. "Sir. All patched up?"
Mal glared at Simon and then shrugged, only to grimace. "Juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan," he grunted. "So we movin' yet?"
"River's got us off the rock. Heading toward the rendezvous, unless you say otherwise."
Mal shook his head. "Nah, that'll do. After, we head toward the Skyplex. Could all use some R&R, once we get all the money in our pockets. Maybe Jayne's mom'll send us some of them nice hats."
On the bed next to the captain's, Wash snorted. Zoe shrugged and flashed her recuperating husband a smile. "Ugly is a good look for you, Sir. I'm sure it would fit perfect."
Mal looked from one Washburn to the other. "I'm sensing a mutiny on my hands."
"Yes, better watch out, I'm bucking for action!" Wash threatened before he looked down. "Oh, what's this? A hole in my stomach. Good thing for you, Captain."
Mal grinned. "I reckon. River's an unnatural fine pilot and all, but she don't do justice to your dinosaurs. When you gonna be up'n running?"
"Another week minimum," Simon said from the other side of the captain. "Any other time, any other place, any other doctor, he'd be dead."
"See, I knew there's a reason I didn't throw you off again!" Mal said.
He and Zoe left the infirmary, but not before she flashed a last smile at her husband, who pretended to catch it in the air and sigh. When they were gone, he shouted, "I'm so bored!"
As the captain and Zoe left and started walking down the gantry toward the galley, they saw Jayne standing in front of them, leaning over and looking down into the cargo area. "What's this now?" Mal asked.
Jayne shushed the captain, then ignoring the glinty look, pointed down. "It's that moon-brained, fong-luh witch woman down there. Look what's she's doing."
They all looked down at River, who sat on the floor of the cargo area next to the cryo-tank, talking to herself. Or rather, she was talking to the tank. "That girl really has something for cows, don't she?" Mal whispered.
Just then, Inara joined them. The Companion was dressed to immaculate perfection, as always. "What's going on?" she asked.
Mal shushed her, and ignoring her fiery look, pointed down. The four of them watched as River began to gesticulate wildly in response to something she said to the tank, and then stood up and slowly began to dance. The dance was at once alien and breathtakingly beautiful, but with an odd martial tone to it.
"If I didn't know better," Inara whispered, "I would say that is some type of taolu or kata. I don't recognize the style, but it's definitely martial. See the way she's moving her hands? Like she's swinging a light-weight sword."
"We all saw what she done at Mr. Universe," Jayne said. "Mayhap she's having one o' dem hatchbacks or somethin'."
"You mean 'flashback'?" Zoe said.
"Maybe," Jayne said, suspicious they were making fun of him.
"It's beautiful," Inara whispered.
Suddenly River spun into a jump that took her into a flying cartwheel almost ten feet off the floor of the ship, and all four watchers stood straight and exchanged looks. Inara was the one to voice their thoughts: "That wasn't possible."
Kaylee wandered into the cargo bay to tune up the mule. She had her toolbox in one hand, an aging but still edible apple in the other, and a smear of oil across her forehead. She had that extra-happy bounce to her step she had whenever Simon came to see her in the night.
Then she saw River flying through the air in a wildly impossible kick that stopped her cold. River landed on her feet and came to a complete halt, staring intently at Kaylee. "An apple!" she said with girlish delight. She rushed to within inches of Kaylee, leaned in and put the apple, still in Kaylee's hands, against her cheek. "Home in a smell," she whispered.
"Uh, ya want it?" Kalyee asked, desperate to find something to say.
River made a face. "Don't like apples. Oranges better. Just the smell." She spun away, her arms outstretched and her face happy.
"That was some move you made," Kaylee noted.
"My friend showed it to me. He doesn't know he remembers, but he does."
"Your friend?"
River pointed to the cryo tank.
"Your friend's a baby cow?"
River laughed in delight. "A baby cow. Yes, that's it! Big, strong, baby cow!" She suddenly spun in a flying kick and brought both her bare feet squarely down on Jayne's head as the larger man walked up behind her.
The mercenary dropped like a rock to the stunned expressions of Mal, Zoe and Inara, who along with Jayne had come down to the floor level when Kaylee came in. "Shiong-muh duh duang-ren!" Mal hissed. "What is wrong with you, woman?"
River blinked. "He wanted to throw my friend out the airlock."
"I think she means the baby cows," Kaylee said helpfully from behind River.
Jayne picked himself up, glaring as he held his head with both hands. "I weren't gonna do squat!" he said. "Just thinkin' it is all."
"First off, we ain't throwin' nothing out the airlock we could sell for money!" Mal said. "Second, nobody beats up my merc but me!"
"That's right!" Jayne said. He did a double take. "What?"
River ignored them and backed up to the tank. "You can't sell him."
"It's a bunch of gorram cow babies!" Mal said.
"Embryos," Zoe corrected.
"Whatever!" Mal glared at her. "The job is to transport 'em. We do that, we get more money."
Just then Simon joined the fray. "What's going on?" he asked as he walked up behind Kaylee.
"River's been talking to the baby cows and beat Jayne up again," she said.
"The job was a trap," River said, ignoring her brother. "They picked this ship because of me. You deliver the tank, they take me, kill all of you. Badger knows. He's still laughing. Two by two, hands of blue." She cocked her head like a dog listing to a high-pitched whistle. "I don't think Badger likes you, Captain."
"Don't say."
"Then what's the use keepin' dem stupid baby cows fer then?" Jayne said.
"Embryos," Mal corrected.
"We could still sell them," Zoe pointed out.
"Touch him and you die."
The whole room fell silent at the utter death in River's voice. All hint of the little girl was gone. What stood before them was the killer of Reavers that saved their lives at Mr. Universe.
It was Inara who stepped forward. "River, you say 'him.' Who is he?"
"He's lost," the girl said, relaxing only slightly. "Doesn't know who he is. But he teaches me anyway. He's sad and lonely and lost and powerful and he doesn't belong here."
"You realize we're talking about a baby cow," Mal told the Companion.
She turned and glared. "Shush!" she said. "River, are you saying there is someone in the tank?"
"No one," she said. "He used to be someone. Now he's no one. No name. No memory. Lost, lonely. Sad."
She turned her back on them all and touched the tank. She began speaking again, but in an oddly familiar language. "That's new," Mal said. Then his eyes widened. "Ain't that that silly tongue they're shoving down kid's throats now-a-days?"
"It's called Corlingua," Inara said. "And you'd better learn it. In ten years it's going to be the official language of the Alliance. They started teaching it in schools twelve years ago."
"I remember," Mal said. "It's one of the articles in the Independence Declaration rejecting it. Question is why she's babbling in it at a tank of cold baby cows?"
Simon shook his head. "Mei mei, open the tank."
"You do that, we lose the cargo!" Mal said.
"You did it to me when I first came on board," Simon noted. "Remember what you found in my cryo tank?"
For the first time, the light of understanding shimmered in Mal's eyes and he gave a stiff nod. "Open it up."
River turned from Simon to the captain, and then back to the tank. Her fingers flew over the control pad as if she were a trained technician, and with a pop and a shower of cold vapor the lid of the tank unsealed. As it rose, everyone gathered closer around the tank to see.
They saw a very large, very well-muscled man with a mane of black hair curled up in fetal position, his eyes closed and his skin gray from the cold of the cryo stasis. He was also very, very naked.
Kaylee grinned and eyed the still figure appreciatively. "That ain't no baby cow, and no how!"
"Huh," the Captain said. "Don't see that every day."
"No, you really don't," Inara said, also sizing up the large man. She made a point of ignoring Mal's suddenly concerned expression.
